


Trigger-Happy

by caliecat



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Humor, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-17
Updated: 2011-06-17
Packaged: 2017-10-20 11:50:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/212498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caliecat/pseuds/caliecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A shootout in a warehouse is not Danny's biggest problem right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trigger-Happy

"Get back," Steve whispers, fast and urgent, as he scoots over Danny's legs. "Move!"

But Danny's already pressed into the crate as far as he can go. "I am back! Maybe we should—"

Another deafening hail of bullets punctuates his words, splintering the wood encasing them and sending jagged fragments flying through their pitiful shelter. Both of them duck. Steve slides back a few more inches until he's basically sitting in Danny's lap.

Danny's heart hammers in his chest as he gulps for air. His nose is buried in Steve's sweaty hair and he can smell the faint citrus tang of after-shave over the acrid odors of gunpowder and singed wood.

"Jesus!" He palms Steve's damp shirt and shoves but it's like trying to move a brick wall. "You're crushing me."

"Look, you know the plan," Steve says, irritated, his left elbow digging into Danny's ribs."Kono and Chin will be here any minute so we sit tight and wait these guys out."

He shoots off two rounds toward the center of the warehouse, ejects the spent clip and rummages in his pocket for a fresh one, wriggling and grinding against Danny like an exotic dancer at a strip club.

Right over his growing erection.

And despite the fact that what should have been a simple interview has turned into a complete clusterfuck, despite the reality that they are now holed up inside a rotting, bullet-ridden wooden box with three well-armed men closing in on them, Danny is shocked by a jolt of electricity so strong he has to bite his lip to keep from crying out.

It's a while before he can speak again. "This is all your fault," he says through clenched teeth, his voice low but his frustration clear.

"Yeah, how do you figure?" Steve slams in the new clip and turns his head toward Danny, so close that his ear brushes against Danny's lips. And the bastard actually smiles, no doubt getting off on the action and danger and near-certainty of a mortal wound.

"Because you're trigger-happy, that's why." His eyes are locked on Steve's profile, on his stupid face smeared with dirt and blood, on the perfect line of his jaw, on his freakishly long lashes. "We could have just walked out when that manager starting acting hinky and waited for back-up but no, you had to charge in with guns blazing when those idiots showed up and now look at us."

He stops to wipe the sweat from his brow before carefully aiming over Steve's right shoulder and squeezing off three shots. The return fire is immediate and intense, showering them with chunks of wood as the crate disintegrates around them.

"All your fault," he mutters again, letting his head fall back. Through the broken slats at the top he can see gun smoke lazily curling toward the ceiling. His arms are streaked with blood and peppered with countless stinging cuts and he imagines he'll be covered in bandages tomorrow.

There's a shout from off to their side and then Steve's squirming again, twisting left and right as he scans the room for their attackers. Danny groans and tries to bend his knee to relieve the painful pressure in his groin but Steve's solid weight has him pinned down tight.

Something must be wrong with him. He's read the articles—well, one night when the office was empty he googled for information because what was wrong with a little research?—and discovered that fear and adrenaline are supposed to inhibit arousal, not promote it.

But apparently his dick never got that memo.

"Come on, Danny, lighten up. It could be worse." Steve's openly grinning now, gun up and butt firmly planted between Danny's legs.

Of course it could be worse, much worse, he realizes, as he attempts to shift away again, only succeeding in shooting off more sparks through his nervous system. He tries the old baseball trick, silently reciting batting averages and ERAs for his favorite Yankees but that distraction didn't work when he was sixteen and it sure as hell isn't working now.

His pants are stretched to their limit, painfully tight and he wonders if he could actually become strangled down there as a result of some weird, unprecedented medical catastrophe. Not a pleasant thought at all and how would it look on the accident report, officer injured in the line-of-duty due to his partner's—

 _Bang!_ An ear-splitting explosion echoes through the warehouse. Two shots ring out.

"Five-0, drop your weapons!"

"Hold it right there, asshole!"

The simultaneous shouts from Kono and Chin are music to his ears.

It's over.

He lets out a shaky breath and hears Steve do the same before falling back against Danny's chest, loose and boneless. "We made it," he whispers into Steve's ear, nerves singing with a dizzying combination of relief and excitement. "We made it."

Steve tilts back enough to gaze up at Danny through his lashes, a slow, soft grin spreading over his face. "Sure did, partner," he murmurs back, and the sound of his voice does something funny to Danny's insides.

Then Kono's rushing over from the other side of the warehouse, frantically calling out to them. "You guys okay?"

"We're good!" Danny shouts back. He gets his hand under Steve's shoulder and starts to push him away, but Steve shifts his weight, braces himself against the floor and slides his long, hot, hard body down the length of Danny's before he finally rolls off to stand.

And then it's really over as Danny's rocked by another explosion, this one in his pants. He twitches, rides out the aftershocks, swallows down a moan and curls over on his side, away from Steve.

"Danny, Danny, are you hit?" Kono is suddenly there, leaning over him and screaming in his ear over the wail of approaching sirens. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Steve turn back with a worried frown.

Danny barely manages the breath to answer her. "No, I'm fine," he grinds out and sweeps his arm out toward the center of the warehouse. "Go take care of your perps."

"But—"

"Go!" he yells and instantly regrets it as he catches her hurt expression before she leaves.

He closes his eyes and wishes he could just lie there until everyone else disappears. That peace last about three seconds.

"Let's go, D."

Steve bends down, hooks a hand under his arm and pulls him to his feet in one smooth motion. Danny jerks back in a futile attempt to flee but Steve's got a firm grip on both of his shoulders now. His sharp gaze sweeps over Danny from the top of his sadly messed-up hair all the way down to his mud-caked shoes, cataloging everything, missing nothing.

After a long moment he smirks, looks like he's about to say something but instead shakes his head, pivots smartly and strides off with his characteristically jaunty lope.

Danny trudges along behind him, head down, eyes on the floor, heart racing, mind spinning with ideas for a plausible cover story. When they're almost to the front of the warehouse Steve stops so abruptly Danny bumps flat into his back. But Steve only smiles at him before flinging an affectionate arm around his shoulders.

"Oh, and Danny?" he purrs, before setting off again with Danny tucked firmly against his side."Between you and me...."

The sunlight pouring in through the open doors is blinding after the dimness of the interior. Danny feels the first sick stirrings of an earth-shattering migraine. His day couldn't possibly get any worse.

Except it does.

As they reach the crowd of HPD officers huddled at the entrance, Steve tightens his embrace and leans in close enough for his breath to tickle Danny's ear.

"I'm not the one who's trigger-happy."

**Author's Note:**

> The kinkmeme prompt was "accidental stimulation". Comments are always welcome!


End file.
